


ambition

by heckyeahhh



Category: Carry On - Fandom, Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Acceptance, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, BFFs, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Comfort No Hurt, Coming Out, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, No Angst, No Smut, SnowBaz, Soft Simon Snow, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, baz is a tryhard, baz proves his teacher wrong, besides like. age 13 ofc, but not really its not rlly mentioned much, childhood best friends, do caps make any difference, i wrote this instead of doing homework, soft, sorry if its shitty lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckyeahhh/pseuds/heckyeahhh
Summary: Simon Snow and Baz Pitch were best friends since childhood. A (hella) short fic detailing key points in their lives from ages 5 to 23.---The dark-haired boy grinned, sharp canines contrasting his soft features. “Okay. Race you there! My name’s Baz, by the way.”“Simon!”And then, without a care in the world, they began sprinting over to the unoccupied swings. Recess wouldn’t be over for another ten minutes, and they couldn’t waste another second of playtime with their new best friend.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	ambition

**Author's Note:**

> the title isnt rlly accurate to the fic i just don't have another lmfao. also i wrote this in five mins, posted it on wattpad, got one(1) read, forgot abt it, then reread and edited and posted here pls forgive me for how BAD it is
> 
> oh, there's slight cursing?? should be just one word, towards the ending, if you don't vibe with that.

_ am·bi·tion _

_ /amˈbiSH(ə)n/ _

_ noun _

  * _a strong desire to do or to achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work._
  * _desire and determination to achieve success._



* * *

_ five years old _

“Hey!” Simon grinned across the playground, joy lighting up his features. “We have the same shoes!”

“Oh, so we do.” The other boy replied, eyebrows shooting up even as his gaze shot down to the shoes in question. “Mum bought them the other day, said I had to look sharp for my first day of class.”

“Mine too! Come on, let's play on the swings!”

The dark-haired boy grinned, sharp canines contrasting his soft features. “Okay. Race you there! My name’s Baz, by the way.”

“Simon!” 

And then, without a care in the world, they began sprinting over to the unoccupied swings. Recess wouldn’t be over for another ten minutes, and they couldn’t waste another second of playtime with their new best friend.

_ nine years old  _

"Bazzzz," Simon groaned, lying face down on his bed. "Let's play Clash Royale or something. Or go outside. It’s nice out." 

"No, that's boring!" scoffed Baz, a slight lisp decorating his words. He was concentrating on getting a new high score in Piano Tiles 2, frowning down at the iPad in front of him. "This one is much better for mental skills, music appreciation, and coolness levels in general." 

"Um, no. Everyone knows I'm a lot cooler than you. And I don’t play that." 

"What are you even talking about?" Baz mumbled, still not paying full attention to the boy on the bed. "That's a lie and you know it."

"Uh huh," Simon rolled his eyes, shifting to the edge of the bed and peering over at his best friend. "What's your score now?"

"8097 and counting," Baz smiled, fingers tapping majestically. "At this rate, I'll be able to double it in no time."

Simon smirked. "A shame if you were to be interrupted..."

"What?"

Simon then proceeded to jump off the bed, right into Baz's arms, causing him to drop the iPad.

"SIMON!" Baz cried, a distraught and horrified look gracing his features. "SIMONNN!"

A pillow fight on the bed ensued, along with a broken arm once they (to no one's surprise) toppled over.

_ eleven years old _

Baz's eyes welled up as his sixth grade teacher commented on how the quality of his schoolwork needed to drastically improve if he was ever going to have even a shot at president of the student council. 

"Maybe you can get there in intermediate," Ms. Sanders deadpanned, though it was clear she thought he was a lost cause. Baz discreetly tried to wipe his eyes, but everyone else in the class was not-so-subtly staring at the situation. 

"He  _ will  _ be president of the intermediate," Simon's angry voice broke through the near-silence of the classroom. "Just you watch." 

_ thirteen years old _

Baz stood in front of the entire 7th and 8th grades, along with all the staff. 

"I'd like to thank you all for supporting me these past two years. There has been no greater joy than being your student council president, especially when organizing the countless fundraisers and 8th grade banquet! You will all be wonderful people, and I can't wait to see how we all grow and learn throughout our high school careers. And 7th graders: make sure you keep the underclassmen in line next year," Baz winked. He was met with roaring laughter, no one caring that his “joke” wasn’t funny; he was, without a doubt, the most popular student in the school. Straight A's, heavily involved in four clubs, on good terms with every single teacher he did or didn't have. Someone who would no doubt grow into a person of importance. He finished up his speech quickly and was met with applause from all corners of the gym.

"Actually, I would like to say one more thing," he added, interrupting the cheers and whistles echoing around the gymnasium. He locked eyes with a certain curly-haired bronze boy. "I couldn't have gotten this far without the support of my best friend, Simon Snow. Many of you know him, or of him, but you may not know that he picked me up in my darkest times so far. My elementary school teachers didn't think I could be class president. I didn't either, after I heard what they had to say.

"But he picked up the pieces of my distress and encouraged me to always try my hardest. He told me that if I just persevered, I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. He's the reason I took up and stuck with violin, the reason I am who I am today, the reason I have the grades and success that I do. This sounds kinda clichè, since I’m barely out of middle school and haven’t really faced “true struggles” yet, but thank you, Simon Snow. I hope we stay friends in all the years to come," he smiled, and walked off the stage as a certain blue-eyed boy wiped the few tears that had escaped onto his cheeks. All is well.

_ fifteen years old  _

"Si, don't you think Keian is pretty hot?" Baz asked one night, laying in the grass as he and his best friend stared up at the stars.

Simon blinked. “Keian, the boy?”

“Uh huh. Is there another Keian?”

Simon ignored his question, intent on asking his own. “Hot?”

“That’s what I said.”

Simon blinked again, pausing before asking, "you're gay?"

"Yeah."

"Ay. Me too. Yeah, he's alright."

"Not as hot as you though."

Simon blinked. Maybe there was something in his eye. "You think I'm hot?"

"Yeah."

"Ay. You too."

Baz turned his head to face Simon. "I kinda like you. As more than a friend."

Simon blinked. "For how long?"

"I don't know. But sixth grade, when you stood up for me against Ms. Sanders; that’s when I first realized."

"Ay. She was a bitch." 

Baz laughed. "Yeah."

A faint smile decorated Simon’s face. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?"

"Of course." 

Simon grabbed Baz's hand and they both looked back up at the stars, grins stretching over their faces. More conversation would come later, but for now, they stewed in their emotions and rejoiced that they had gotten the boy of their dreams.

_ twenty-three years old _

"Do you, Simon Snow, take Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch as your lawfully wedded husband?"

Simon smiled. "I do."

**_the end_ **


End file.
